


Twelve Ways to Frustrate Your Cheren This Holday Season

by Lyraeon



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Christmas, Fivesome, Fluff, Multi, OT5, Presents, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyraeon/pseuds/Lyraeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first Christmas in Nuvema after the return of Hilda, Hilbert, and N. Cheren adjusts to there being even more people around to annoy with his sarcasm. Light and WAFFy Vuvuzelashipping OT5 holiday fluff; you'll probably like it if you're a Monochromeshipping or Dualrivalshipping fan too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Ways to Frustrate Your Cheren This Holday Season

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kireon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kireon/gifts), [NidoranDuran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NidoranDuran/gifts).



> Slightly late Christmas gift for my little sister Kireon and my writing buddy NidoranDuran  
> Also, quite possibly the first Vuvuzelashipping fic ever. Not sure on that one.  
> Either way, enjoy!

“Do I want to ask where you got the money for all of these presents?”

 

Cheren had been prepared for a pile of gifts to be under Hilbert's tree, since the five of them had designated his house as their gathering place for Christmas. He hadn't been prepared for a stack that rivaled the tree in size, or for genuinely feeling a little foolish about the gift cards he'd picked out for everyone.

 

Or, for that matter, for three of his four friends to be making out on the couch while the fourth made hot cocoa in the kitchen. He wasn't sure whether Hilda, N, and Hilbert had used the cocoa making for cover so they could make out, or if Bianca had wandered off to make it out of embarrassment at their activities. Either way, none of them gave more than half a glance at him, let alone answered his question.

 

“I said, do I even want to know where you got the money for this absurd waste of wrapping paper.”

 

There was no response; Bianca didn't seem to hear him over the version of Jingle Bell Rock coming from the speakers, and the closest the others came to acknowledging him was a smile that N cast his way.

 

He coughed loudly. “I'm sorry, am I interrupting?”

 

Hilda sighed dramatically, pulling her lips away from the two boys' and turning her head quickly enough that the pompom of her santa cap flopped in front of her face. “It's not interrupting if you join us,” she scolded impatiently.

 

“You'll have to forgive me; I was figuring that the holiday sex would be far more gratifying _after_ the show of shameless consumerism. At this volume, wrapping paper should make an excellent mattress.”

 

“Is that Cheren?!” came Bianca's voice from the kitchen, much to his relief. “Cheren!” she squealed, first peeking out of the doorway and then rushing over to hug him tight. “I'm so glad you made it!” Before he could give her any more proper greeting than a quick squeeze, she'd covered both his cheeks, then his lips, in quick kisses that felt slightly sticky and smelled like peppermint. Clearly, she'd gotten into the candy canes early, as she was prone to. “Do you want marshmallows in your hot cocoa?”

 

“I'd prefer coffee, but you can put marshmallows in it anyway,” he answered, not wanting all her hard work to go to waste.

 

“Okay!” she grinned, kissing him again and shuffling back to the kitchen in a manner he recognized meant new slippers. Her dad got her a pair every year, and they were always too big, so she always only wore them for a week or so before passing them on to the larger-footed Hilda if she liked them, or conveniently losing them in the back of her closet if she didn't. These ones, to his relief, didn't squeak or even click terribly much as she walked.

 

“So is anyone going to answer my question? I mean either someone made it rain at the dollar tree or-”

 

“Tournament winnings,” N explained, more nonchalantly than Cheren had expected.

 

“Champion's earnings,” Hilda added in her “I handed Iris and Nate their asses for Christmas in July” voice.

 

“Whored myself out in Nimbasa,” Hilbert finished.

 

Hilda gasped in mock terror. “And you didn't invite me?”

 

N glanced between the two brunettes with slight confusion. “What does 'whored my-'”

 

“It's a joke,” Cheren interrupted. “One in rather poor taste.”

 

“Laugh it up, Mr Gym Leader,” Hilbert answered, sticking his tongue out, “You've got until we get a hat on you to be Scrooge, after that we're force-feeding you holiday cheer.”

 

It was only then that he realized both he and N were wearing identical Santa hats to Hilda. “Can't wait,” he enthused, setting his handful of gift bags down beneath the tree. He kicked the ottoman away from its matching recliner and straddled it, sitting close enough to the three on the couch that they started pawing at him almost on cue. He was momentarily too distracted by trying to remember if Bianca was also wearing one of the dreaded red caps or her normal beret to bother with them.

 

“Okay, so that explains the how, I guess. Is there a why sprinkled in here somewhere?”

 

“Is there a why in... Eh, I got nothing,” Hilbert shrugged, finally laying claim to one of Cheren's hands since no other part of him seemed interested in reciprocating his attention. The familiarly, almost creepily, gentle brush of N's lips passed across his other hand before Hilda took it between hers, leaving his right arm awkwardly stretched out, and with a sigh he squeezed each of them in return.

 

“Unless I'm mistaken, we have two extra Christmases to make up for, from the time we were gone,” N explained calmly. “And in all honesty, I feel I have sixteen Christmases to catch up for.”

 

“Thank you for explaining,” Cheren answered, the sarcasm momentarily gone from his voice. He knew that despite being the oldest amongst them, and even though he'd spent the last two years learning about the real world, N tended not to understand sarcasm, rhetorical questions, or anything else that was less than straightforward. Cheren had no desire to spoil that in him for the foreseeable future. It meant for the time being there was still someone amongst the complicated tangle they passed for a relationship that he could get actual answers out of, and while he disliked giving straight answers, he liked getting them. “Fortunately for the rest of you, mediocrity times three still equals mediocrity, so I don't think you'll be too disappointed with your annual gift cards.”

 

“I'll just take a kiss to make up for it!” Hilbert announced, though the last word was somewhat muffled by the gym leader's lips being thoroughly smooshed against his own. Cheren's only attempt at fighting the invasion of personal space was a low grumble, the boy's grip on his cheeks too firm for him to even debate escaping. Within a few seconds. he even started to enjoy the kiss – his job kept him separated from the others for weeks at a time, and their wanderlust made them hard to locate when he was free, so it was a sorely missed treat. Even if he did taste more like eggnog than Cheren was happy with.

 

Unfortunately, suddenly having a slightly too tight, obnoxiously festive polyester cap thrust upon your head had its way of ruining even the best kisses.

 

“I'm fairly sure Bianca can survive my wrath by now,” he complained, wiping the wetness from his lips. “Are you sure you want to keep making her do your dirty work?”

 

“I'm pretty sure she can survive it, too. I just don't think you'll want to chew her out, anyway, just in case.”

 

“Is that really a chance you want to take?”

 

“Is making her cry really a chance you want to take?”

 

“...All I'm saying is, I'm on to you. Your dirty tricks won't work next year.”

 

“The cocoa's ready!”

 

Cheren's attention snapped so quickly in the direction of Bianca's perky announcement that Hilbert didn't even bother stifling a laugh. Hilda was nice enough to reach over N to swat at him on Cheren's rather distracted behalf, though not without letting out a giggle of their own.

 

Strictly speaking, the five of them were together, in one relationship. How, or even if, that worked in normal people terms, none of them knew for sure yet. There were an odd number of them, which made splintering off into publicly presentable “excuse” pairs difficult. With three of the five still technically living at home, there were still plenty of people to ask what was going on even if they kept their antics indoors. They'd lucked into Hilbert's parents being out of town and willing to leave him behind to, supposedly, have Christmas at Hilda's. Coincidentally, her mom had seen through part of their convoluted arrangement – the corner involving Hilda, Hilbert, and N – and had given the closest thing to a blessing any of them expected to get, so she was covering for them. How exactly they had wound up “all five of us” and not just “you three and us two” was possibly more confusing than the relationship itself, but seeing the adorable eskimo kiss that passed as thanks between Hilda and Bianca as she was passed a warm mug served as reason enough in some masochistic corner of Cheren's mind.

 

His own mug definitely had coffee in it – coffee that had been diluted with cocoa powder and marshmallows to the point of being a little too sweet for his tastes, but there was caffeine to be had and that was good enough. Despite the warmth of the cup in his hands, he found himself quietly wishing he was still holding the others' hands. As though reading his mind, Hilda's legs suddenly appeared on his lap, her toes stretching dramatically inside striped fluffy socks before she cast him a cheshire grin.

 

After a second trip to the kitchen to get the last of the drinks, Bianca settled down on the ottoman behind him, only to immediately jump back up and scurry about the room gathering their stockings before returning to her seat.

 

Even as chocolate wrappers started to rustle from the others' stockings and N became distracted by a wooden puzzle cube that had topped his sock, Cheren sighed and took another sip of his coffee, half-ignoring the stocking sitting across Hilda's outstretched ankles. “I always hated opening the stockings first. It always ruined the other surprises.”

 

“How so?” Hilda asked, less out of genuine curiosity and more out of instinctive indulgence of Cheren's bellyaching.

 

“All the batteries and expansion packs and things like that are always in the stocking. I knew the year my parents got me a Wii because they put a memory card in there, completely ruined the morning for me.”

 

Hilbert laughed. “I thought your parents were supposed to be the smart ones?”

 

“I think they just didn't expect a nine year old to figure it out so easily,” he shrugged. “I trust you guys to have a little more sense than that, but still. I prefer waiting and opening my stocking last.”

 

“Okay, have it your way Scrooge. But at least grab the top gift, I got you one of those puzzles too,” Hilda scolded, motioning toward N, who already had his in multiple pieces on his lap.

 

“By the time I get the packaging off, he'll have it solved already. I'll wait till I get home; I can use it to distract kids who finish their tests early.”

 

Hilda gave another dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes and biting the head off a chocolate Santa. “Be that way,” she grumbled with her mouth full, sliding her legs back off his lap and standing up. She placed quick kisses on both his and N's heads, though N barely noticed as he did, indeed, almost have the cube re-assembled. “Just means you have to open a present first,” she announced, grabbing a soft package from under the tree and chucking it at his chest.

 

“Well at least it's not a tie,” he sighed, carefully setting his mug on the floor between his feet before setting to work on the tape on the back of the gift.

 

“That one's not,” Hilda agreed, plopping onto the floor close to the tree and crossing her legs. “I make no promises about any of the others.”

 

“Har har,” he answered, moving on to the next piece of tape as Hilbert and N also made their way up from the couch, the older boy strangely silent as he played with the last two pieces, trying to decide which one went where.

 

“Oh Arceus, you're one of those?” Hilbert asked, tossing Hilda a present before taking his own seat on the floor. “Just rip the damn paper.”

 

“'One of those'?” Cheren scoffed, doing his best to sound properly insulted, which wasn't too much of a stretch. “How many years have we known each other?”

 

“You know we always went to my grandma's for Christmas.”

 

“Well next year, use less tape.”

 

“Hilda wrapped that one.”

 

He looked to her instead. “Use less ta-”

 

“Why do you think I used so much?”

 

He did his best to frown at her in the least-Scroogey way he could muster, before making a pointed display of ripping the rest of the wrapping paper off in as few of motions as possible. He avoided looking at the package out of disgust at having to waste paper that he otherwise could have re-used to wrap his parents' gifts.

 

Pants were, factually, not a tie. They also weren't an ugly Christmas sweater, so he could live with them as a gift option.

 

“They're from the men's department and everything,” Hilda proudly told him, “I thought someone should get you something from there since you haven't seemed able to find it.”

 

“I wasn't aware the 'Santa hat equals Christmas Spirit' rule only applied to me.”

 

“I wrapped it _before_ I put on the hat.”

 

“Open one of mine next?” N offered, cutting off the playful bickering by handing him a package with the strange grace that only he seemed capable of. Any gratitude he felt over not having to coming up with a response to Hilda's jest was negated by the words “ _one of_ ”. As N settled down near Hilda's side of the tree, clearly leaving a gap intended for Cheren to take his seat in, the gym leader was left to hold the present with one hand and worry about exactly how many presents the oldest boy had gotten him.

 

He was saved from having to do more with the gift then set it on his lap as Bianca stood up and declared, “Wait, not yet! We should all take turns!” before dashing over to look through the presents.

 

Cheren's barely contained sigh of relief was countered by the fact the blonde was no longer sharing the ottoman with him, depriving him both of her warmth and softness, and of his excuse to not sit on the floor with the others. He turned the wrapped book – it was obvious anything that size and that heavy was a book – over a couple times, but was unable to determine anything behind the disturbingly perfect wrapping paper creases and intricately curled flounce of carefully tied ribbon besides it being hardcover.

 

Meanwhile, Bianca started distributing a small stack of gifts to each of them, humming along to the music in the background in a way that made it obvious the playlist was hers. Not all of the presents she picked out were from her, however; her sparkly, whimsical taste in wrapping paper and slightly messy attempts at wrapping were obvious amongst the pile. To his slight frustration, she was setting what he presumed were his gifts, as one of her snowman-wrapped presents was atop the pile, not in front of him but instead in front of the void on the floor where everyone still seemed to expect him to sit. He stared the pile for a moment as though willing his psychic powers to awaken and move it within arm's reach.

 

It gave him something to focus on besides the way Hilda was recklessly tearing into N's department store display quality wrapping job.

 

“If you're so against sitting on the floor, you could sit on my lap instead?” Hilbert offered, leaning back and patting his knees. Cheren scowled in response, making an exaggerated show of the effort involved in standing up, moving his coffee and N's wrist-straining book to where his pile sat, and collapsing there instead for the most dignified definition of collapsing his legs cared to demonstrate.

 

“I just thought that, since we're all adults here, we could sit on furniture like normal people.”

 

“There's no fun in that,” the brunette argued. He looked back up to see Bianca eying him and wringing her hands a little, apparently done with passing out gifts for the moment. “Since he's not sitting here, you can if you want,” Hilbert offered, giving his lap another pat.

 

She blushed and giggled, wiggling slightly. “Well...”

 

Cheren took another sip of his coffee, hiding his jealousy behind the mug. He cast a glance past N toward Hilda, momentarily hoping his powers would awaken as telepathy instead and she'd decide to come sit on him. He quickly thought better of it when he realized she was pulling on a brand new, seasonally tacky sweater and having difficulty pulling her head through.

 

“Actually...” Bianca continued, scooting over so she was in front of N and casting him one of her signature pouts. He blinked, momentarily confused by her unspoken request, glancing to the other boys for a cue. They both vaguely motioned at their laps, without putting down his mug in Cheren's case. Hilda did it all the time, but never bothered asking, as she'd taken their relationship status as license to freely violate the other four's personal space at will, which in all honesty wasn't much of a change from the friendship that preceded it.

 

“You can sit on my lap if you wish,” N answered, nodding to Bianca. With a slight cheer, she carefully turned around and cuddled sat down, cuddling up into his lap and wrapping her arms around her knees giddily.

 

“You're so tall, it's like I'm sitting on a throne!” she announced. It was somewhat true; there was a foot and then some between the two, so her head fit neatly under his chin with only a bit of slouching on her part. The other three went dead silent for several seconds at the word “throne”, half expecting a negative response from the ex-“royalty”, but he didn't seem to notice, leaving them all to squelch their sighs of relief.

 

“The sweater's adorable, thank you!” Hilda piped up, grinning at Bianca and letting the oversized arms flop around comically. Cheren wondered how she'd gone from opening N's present to wearing Bianca's that quickly, but the multi-colored stack of paper behind her showed that she had already completely forsaken the idea of taking turns. “You should open one next! This one's from me!” she announced, leaning over to grab a gift and passing it to the younger girl.

 

A quick glance at his own stack for the same pattern of paper revealed that, as usual, Hilda'd managed to find the tackiest paper she could imagine. He was grateful it was on the bottom of the pile so that he wouldn't have to stare at crudely-drawn, cartoons-they-can-only-show-at-midnight inspired Sawsbucks for so long. The fact that a giant, stick-on silver bow adorned the one she'd handed to Bianca seemed entirely inappropriate in contrast, but the moment the blonde jokingly stuck it to her own santa hat instead, his heart melted and he had to look away for fear of getting mushy.

 

“You might as well open your gift card,” Cheren told Hilbert in an attempt at making non-snarky conversation.

 

“Nah, I'll wait. We'll spare you the embarrassment of having your salary revealed in front of the whole group.”

 

He made a mental note to return everything Hilbert had gotten him and ebay whatever didn't have gift receipts.

 

Bianca's approach to present opening wasn't quite as hurried as Hilda's, but there was still a clear disregard for the integrity of the gift wrap, not that Hilda's wrapping style gave much leeway for regard. The package opened to reveal a new fluffy vest for the girl, who squealed and quickly pulled it on – impressively only smacking N in the face once along the way – and then half-crawled out of his lap to exchange a tight hug and quick kiss with her girlfriend. “Thank youuuuu!” she said as she re-situated herself in N's lap.

 

N went next, opening a board game from Hilbert in an almost ceremonious fashion that simultaneously filled Cheren with overwhelming relief that there wasn't ripped paper everywhere, and made him strangely uncomfortable. Bianca had since set her legs flat, and they both leaned over slightly to read the back of the box intently. Even though Cheren was sure Bianca had played Clue a hundred times before and knew the rules well, it was adorable to see her finger skimming along the lines as she read, N's chin resting on her shoulder as he pretended to follow along even though he undoubtedly had triple her reading speed.

 

By the time he realized he no longer felt jealous, Hilbert was already calling thanks over to Bianca, the paper crumpled but intact behind him. His first gift had been a jar of brownie mix, the ingredients carefully layered in a way that would have suggested she'd had help making it if they hadn't known it was from years of practice. Bianca tended to value hand-making presents quite highly, but lacked the coordination for most crafts, so she'd been giving out baking jars for at least the last five years to everyone except Hilda, who still hadn't gotten around to using the jar from the first batch.

 

N had set aside the board game and was now looking expectantly at the wrapped book still sitting on Cheren's lap. With a dramatic sigh he realized it was his turn again and he set his coffee down to carefully unwrap the gift. N's picture perfect wrapping job was so well done that he had a hard time figuring out where the ribbons ended to remove them, and the flaps were all sealed so impressively he had a hard time believing how few pieces of tape were holding it together.

 

All his strange joy was cut short when he flipped the enormous book over and saw the title, however.

 

_Use Your Head, Not Your Brain: The Life and Times of a Wandering Champion_ by Alder Adeku.

 

“It's his autobiography,” N explained in his usual calm tone. “I know he's your role model, so I thought you might enjoy it.”

 

Something more than disbelief but not quite rage bubbled in Cheren as he stared at the cover, then looked up toward the older boy. He had grown sick of Alder in a way he had a hard time explaining over the course of the last few years, even before they'd essentially become neighbors and Alder had started interrupting his classes. He doubted N had meant any harm with the gift, but-

 

N's normal, serene expression was slightly off, somehow. The corner of his mouth twitched, an eyebrow rising with it. Another twitch, and a grin started to form.

 

It became a full-on, shit-eating grin as he asked, “Well, do you like it?” with an inflection Cheren never expected to hear come out his mouth.

 

The anger fell out of Cheren so fast that he couldn't find anything but nervous laughter to replace it with. It was truly a Christmas miracle; N had learned how to use sarcasm.

 

“Merry Christmas!” he added, and the others stopped trying to contain their laughter, though Bianca seemed to be laughing along moreso than truly understanding why the gift was so funny.

 

“I hate all of you,” Cheren declared with his face in his hands... and the biggest smile he'd had all year on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays and thanks for reading! I'd love it if you took the extra minute to drop me a review and let me know what you think!


End file.
